


My Love

by TheWallHadItComing233



Series: Omegle RPs [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock (TV) RPF, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 1700s Au, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But Sweet, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Consent, First GOOD Time, First Time, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kinda, M/M, Neck Kissing, Not really romantic, Pet Names, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romance, Scars, Sensitive Sherlock, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Slow Burn, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWallHadItComing233/pseuds/TheWallHadItComing233
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place in the 1700s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love

The room was graced with the stench of mid-aged men, sweating and stinking like swine from the small fires that heated the building. John walked into the auction, unbefittingly calm considering it was his first time at an auction. His father was insistent on his buying a servant of his own, as some inert display of masculinity and power. He closed his eyes and opened them with a roll, managing to look nonchalant about something he cared very deeply about. The auctioneer took front and center on the stage, men humming and clearing their throats. 

The auctioneer began to speak, loud and clear, an introductory statement, before he announced the slaves' names. Anabelle, Carolyn, Addison, Booker, Breanna... They all were far too feeble and demure for his liking; they were all bought by someone else in any case. It took nearly one long, heated hour before someone drew John's interest. Sherlock Holmes; bidding started at 2 thousand. There was a scoff on the boy's face, a look of complete disgust. John's eyes widened as the boy entered the stage. He took the bid, and topped the two men that also wanted him.

John licked his lips as the auctioneer called it, and the guard pulled Sherlock backstage to meet his new master. John's eyes were dark as he also went backstage. The guard pushed Sherlock down to his knees and went to escort the next slave out onto the stage. “Hello, Mister Holmes,” John said peaceably, sliding his fingers into Sherlock's somewhat greasy hair. He'd have to clean the boy later. For now... “How are you?”

Each and every auction was the same. There was an ungodly stench to the room, and Sherlock knew he was a piece of meat. He was usually bought up quickly, since for some reason most upper class men who fancied themselves proper didn't mind having a slave boy blow them or bending said boy over their desk. Sherlock was always sold back quickly, something the auctioneers never told the crowd, and the teen wasn't really surprised when he was bought yet again. It didn't take long before he was face-to-face with his new owner, who was shorter than him but just as smug as every other rich man here. On his knees, Sherlock looked up, sneering as fingers went into his hair. Not saying a thing, Sherlock relished his first few minutes with the man, knowing it would set the tone for what his owner thought of him. Silence was defiance, and Sherlock planned to be very defiant.

 John continued petting him. "Oh? I can work with silence," John said. He smirked a bit. "Besides. I'm sure there are other things that you can do with those plush lips." John fisted his hand in Sherlock's hair and pulled him up to his feet. "Now, if you don't want to be taken right here for everyone to see, you'll come home with me." His eyes went dark, glinting dangerously.

 Lips pressed tightly together, Sherlock stood. He still had his hands bound, but of course he knew how to escape that. The key to his chains was given to John by a guard before they left, but Sherlock still followed behind him. He had to at least pretend to be obedient until later, since Sherlock knew masters could do almost anything they wanted with their slaves. Sherlock simply did as told, walking behind John and waiting to be shown where they were going. Home, probably, he thought dully. The owners always wanted to assert their dominance with sex first.

 John began to walk home. Halfway on their journey, John turned and pushed Sherlock against the wall, kissing him hard, and pinning his bound wrists above his head. He did it as a point, his lips and tongue controlling and rough. He pulled off gently, panting. He took a few moments before he continued to walk home, holding the chains of Sherlock's bondage.

 It didn't take long for Sherlock to be shoved against a wall. He grunted at the brute force of it, but he let John kiss him. Sherlock did not resist, but he did not push back at all, giving no reciprocal action nor moving against John as they kissed. Finally, when John pulled back, Sherlock panted and wiped his mouth on his shirt at the shoulder, then following behind John. He just wanted to get to his new home and get this over with, walking a little faster to keep up with John holding his chains.

 John licked the taste of Sherlock off of his lips. He was such a beautiful boy... John closed his eyes for a moment to calm down. He approached the door to his home. He unlocked it and let them both in. He unlocked Sherlock's cuffs and let them fall to the floor. "Go upstairs, and undress yourself," he commanded. "I hope that you know better than to disobey me."

 Sherlock stepped inside the large home when it was unlocked, standing and taking in his surroundings. John was clearly wealthy. Sherlock nodded at his orders, going up the stairs a second later and rubbing his raw wrists the entire way. He wasn't certain which room was the master bedroom, but Sherlock found it easily enough. Inside, he stripped himself and left his clothes folded on the floor, going to kneel down by the foot of the bed. His owners almost always wanted to come in and fuck his mouth first, so Sherlock made sure he was in the best position for it.

 John got himself a glass of water, bringing it upstairs for the both of them. He shook his head as he saw Sherlock. "As pretty as you are on your knees, on your back, on the bed," he commanded. He leaned against the doorframe. "I want to watch you touch yourself for a bit." He strolled in and set the glass down on bedside table.

 When John entered, Sherlock avoided looking at him, but he did when the order came. Sherlock slowly rose, going to get on the bed before lying back. He spread his legs a little, getting comfortable. Sherlock hadn't been able to lie down on a soft surface in weeks, and he wanted to just sleep right there, but he knew he needed to follow John's orders. Sherlock took his soft prick in hand, starting to stroke. A minute went by and he was hard in hand, toes and thighs twitching occasionally as he slowly stroked himself.

 John panted slowly, watching him close. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. He put a warm hand on Sherlock's stomach. "God, love..." He moaned softly and began to strip.

 Sherlock's eyes landed on his owner. His hand stilled for a moment and he adjusted his body on the bed, getting comfortable again. Sherlock took in deep breaths, reaching with his other hand to fondle his bollocks while slowly stroking himself, playing with a bead of pre-cum before continuing what he was doing.

 When John was naked, he moved to hover over Sherlock. "Stop now, my sweet," he murmured, leaning down to kiss him. He pulled Sherlock's thighs to wrap around his hips and waist.

 Still not kissing back, Sherlock did as told, stopping touching himself. He moved only to get into a more comfortable position, but then he laid still, letting John do as he pleased. Most of the time, his masters would fuck him first with almost no lubricant, maybe just saliva or some salve they had nearby as a means to slick them up, but that was all. Sherlock forced himself to relax and loosen, telling himself that if he could get through this, it would be fine.

 "Come on, love. I want you to enjoy this," John murmured. He flipped them so Sherlock was on his lap. "Relax." He kissed Sherlock again, trying to tempt him.

 Sherlock moved, adjusting when he was in John's lap. He liked this position a little better, having a fraction more control than before. "I'm not your love," he said flatly, saying his first words to his new owner. "Sir," he added, knowing how previous masters hated when he left that off.

 John blinked. "Would you prefer me to hurt you? Abuse and use you like the others?" He pursed his lips. "I care for my toys, even if they're just toys. I do want to take care of you, keep you happy," he said, putting his hands on the small of Sherlock's lightly scarred back.

 Sherlock was slightly surprised. He tried to pull back a little, but John's hands were there, keeping him still. "I wouldn't presume to tell my master what to do," he murmured, looking down at John's chest, not moving his eyes up again. Sherlock didn't have any reason to trust John, and he knew promises could be empty.

 "Come on. Relax. For right now. For your master," John said. He pulled Sherlock a bit tighter to him so he could pet his back. "I'm not going to hurt you." He smiled sweetly at Sherlock.

 Sherlock's jaw tensed, and he settled as close as he could to John, in his lap. He hadn't forgotten his erection, still hard and now pressed to John's torso, and he tried not to think about John's own. "Yes, sir," he murmured, willing his body to relax as best he could. Sherlock took in a deep breath and let it go, feeling slightly better with John petting his back.

 John met Sherlock's eyes. "Do you want to continue?" he asked softly, genuinely.

 Sherlock hesitated. "I will not tell my master what to do," he repeated, turning his eyes away. "I want whatever my master wishes." Sherlock tried to give a small smile, but he knew it was probably slightly tense and nervous.

 "Sherlock, love. Answer me," John commanded softly.

 "Please, just do it," Sherlock whispered, looking down. He wanted to get this over with. The first time was always the worst, and after that Sherlock would know what his master wanted of him. Getting this finished would just make it easier on the both of them.

 John froze. "No. Do you want this?" he asked, firmer.

 Sherlock stiffened a little at John's firm tone. "Yes," he answered, almost instinctively. He went quiet then. His cock was getting softer now, after not being played with in a while, but Sherlock didn't move to touch himself anymore.

 John licked his lips and gently urged Sherlock's chin so he'd be facing him. He kissed him softly. "I'll take care of you," he promised gently against Sherlock's lips. He rolled his hips, still kissing him.

 Sherlock let John kiss him, and he didn't quite kiss back but he wasn't entirely limp like he'd been before. Sherlock hesitated for a second before putting his hands on John's shoulders, needing something to hold on to when the man rolled his hips and Sherlock moved in his lap.

 John moaned softly. He continued to move with Sherlock, holding the base of Sherlock's back. He turned a bit to kiss and nibble on Sherlock's ear, neck, and shoulder.

 It didn't take long for Sherlock to be hard again. He was still nervous about doing anything to John or even return his kisses, but he let John play with him like the toy he knew he was. Sherlock made a small noise, soft and high-pitched in his throat.

 John kept his lips against Sherlock's skin as he whispered, "Are you alright, love?"

 "Fine," Sherlock replied softly. He swallowed. "Just... It feels good. My neck," he clarified quietly, still slightly nervous even after how nice his new master was being.

 "Is it sensitive?" John asked, licking from Sherlock's pulse point to the crease of his jaw bone.

 Sherlock didn't have to answer. He breathed heavily when John licked his neck, and his hand on John's shoulder tightened in response. Sherlock's mouth hung open a bit, not able to form words. None of his masters ever indulged him, and though they liked to get a reaction out of him, it was never quite like this.

 John bit his lip, smiling excitedly. He continued to nip and suck, dropping one hand to gently pet Sherlock's cock.

 Sherlock stayed in John's lap, whining softly when the man sucked at his neck and pet his cock. It felt amazing, the combination created a low pleasure in his belly, and he wanted to stay right where he was.

 "Is this alright, my beautiful boy?" John asked softly. He nosed along the slight muscles in Sherlock's neck.

 Sherlock had to take a second to breathe, and he moved to lean his head against John's nosing by his hairline while John nosed at his neck. "Yes," he breathed, trying to stabilize himself somehow. This was all almost overwhelming.

 "They didn't try to pleasure you, did they?" John asked, kissing gently at the erogenous zone.

 Sherlock moved his hands to hold onto John's upper arms, just wanting to touch a little more of him. "It wasn't required," he replied softly. Sherlock kept close to John's head, leaning into his body and actions as best he could.

 "It's still not," John said, smiling a bit. He kissed Sherlock and he pulled a small vial out of his bedside table. "I want you back on your back, my love," he said softly, unscrewing the cap.

 Sherlock knew his own pleasure was still not required, and he managed a tiny smile. He moved to get on his back, looking up to John and feeling a little more vulnerable than he had a moment ago, but Sherlock wasn't about to argue. He spread his legs and tried to make his bum accessible, figuring John wanted to start opening him up.

 John put a hand on Sherlock's stomach, trying to calm him down. He kissed his thigh gently as he lubed up his fingers. He slid one inside of Sherlock. "God, my beauty," he murmured.

 Bending his legs at the knee, Sherlock let John put a finger in him. He knew how to relax and take stretching, but he wondered if John would be like he was before, when he was rough and pushed Sherlock against a wall to kiss him harshly. Sherlock pushed the thought from his mind, just trying to be loose for John to open him up.

 John pumped the finger inside of Sherlock for a few moments, before slowly adding a second. He nuzzled Sherlock's thigh. "Is this nice, my love?" he asked quietly, looking up to meet Sherlock's eyes.

 Being stretched wasn't exactly the best feeling, but Sherlock was used to it. "It's going to be nice," he replied as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to get through this part. It was much better than he had anticipated, but it was still with someone new, and he didn't know how John was going to be just yet.

 John tilted his head and twisted his fingers to stroke Sherlock's prostate. He licked his lips and watched for a response.

 The man twitched, his body moving almost on its own as his prostate was rubbed. Sherlock was not unused to this feeling, since it would sometimes happen when his other masters had been inside him, but never had anyone done it for him on purpose. Sherlock gasped softly, looking down to John with surprise.

 John panted slowly, meeting Sherlock's eyes. He continued to rub, slowly, deliberately. "Better?" he asked, sliding in a third finger and adding a bit more lubrication.

 Sherlock's hips wriggled, and he groaned, reaching up to cover his mouth a second later. He didn't respond verbally, instead nodding his head and trying to keep the flush off his cheeks.

 "Come now, love. I want to hear you. Moan for me," John said, licking his lips. He bit inside Sherlock's thigh gently. He separated his fingers a bit, stretching.

 It took a few seconds, but Sherlock did moan after uncovering his mouth. It felt good, being pleasured. He saw now why other people enjoyed sex so much, if it was like this when it was good.

 John lubed up his cock. "Are you ready, my love?" he asked softly, moving up to kiss him softly.

 Sherlock knew he was a blushing mess, but he nodded, this time barely returning the kiss from his master. "Yes, sir," he replied softly, trying to lift his hips for John.

 John smiled. He closed his eyes for a moment as he lined up, and slid inside, slowly, moaning.

 Sherlock took in a deep breath, waiting until John was all the way in before exhaling. He'd been used for sex plenty of times over the last few days in the auction house, but John wasn't making it as harsh as the others had. Sherlock just adjusted, chest rising and falling as he got used to the feeling of opening up like this.

 John let out a breath, with a soft moan. "God, my beautiful boy..." he murmured. He rolled his hips, thrusting slowly.

 When John moved his hips, Sherlock let out a long, low noise. He arched his back on the bed, relaxing a second later. He reached down to have somewhere to touch John, just wanting to feel him under his fingertips.

 "There you are, love. Just relax. Move with me," John said softly, nuzzling John's neck.

 Sherlock was a mess, writhing under John. They weren't even doing anything more than gentle rocking yet, and Sherlock felt like he could finish any minute. His cock strained between their bodies, and he tilted his chin up, letting John have access to his neck as much as he pleased.

 John kissed gently. He rolled his hips, panting and moaning softly. "God, you're so perfect," he murmured.

 Moving with John as he thrusted each time, Sherlock felt good. "Is that why you chose me?" he asked, aware of his mistake half a second later. He closed his mouth tightly, not saying another thing.

 John paused. "I chose you because you were different. You looked tired, and a bit annoyed. Not feeble, not scared, but... just annoyed," he said softly. He nuzzled Sherlock. "Because I wanted to take you away from whoever gave you those scars."

 Sherlock was silent at John spoke, but then he rolled his hips just a little. "Fuck me," he almost demanded, knowing it was definitely not his place. "Sir," he added, a soft glint in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

 John smirked. "Do you want me to be rough?" he asked quietly.

 Though it took him a second, Sherlock nodded. "If you want to, yes," he mumbled. Sherlock didn't want to push, but he was used to more than this. And if John could do that and still please him in the process, that was more than Sherlock could ask for.

 John hooked his hands under Sherlock's knees and pushed them back a bit. He began to thrust, panting heavily. "God, love..." he grunted softly.

 With his legs in the air now, Sherlock felt a little more like he'd always been before, but he'd never been called love during sex before. Sherlock let out a little moan, body moving in time to John's thrusts, and he reached a hand down to grip at his cock and stroke himself.

 John thrusted, panting and moaning. He shifted a bit so he'd be rubbing Sherlock's prostate.

 When John rubbed against Sherlock's prostate, the slave yelped, covering his mouth with his free hand. It was not a yelp of pain, more of surprise as goosebumps rushed over his skin. Sherlock panted, stroking himself faster and feeling his climax coming.

 John continued, getting closer himself. "Fuck..." he grunted, biting his lips hard. "God, darling..."

 As if he couldn't help himself, Sherlock didn't wait for his master, instead coming and making a mess between them. His mouth hung open as he groaned, stiffening and tightening around John's cock.

 As the muscles tightened around John, he came, out of breath and shaking a bit. He tried to catch his breath back.

 Sherlock's eyes were closed as he came, but slowly he opened them, catching his breath as well. He didn't say anything, just watching John and waiting for whatever would come next.

 John pulled out before Sherlock relaxed completely so he didn't startle the boy. "Was that alright?" he asked quietly, kissing Sherlock's neck.

 Though he felt like a mess, Sherlock stayed still, knowing he could feel John's seed drip out of him. "It was good," he said softly, almost not believing something good had happened to him like this.

 John collapsed next to Sherlock, nuzzling him and kissing him gently. His eyes fluttered shut, and he remained close to Sherlock, his kisses slowing down until he fell asleep, his head buried in the crook of Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock smiled a bit, and relaxed, joining John in slumber.


End file.
